Page 55 of Paper Ghosts

The position of the tables for each business participating in the fair was done by lottery, and the balloon dart game sponsored by Manny’s Greenhouses on the highway—with prizes of Halloween plants like Venus flytraps, gnomes with chia-seed hair, and prickly cacti—was closest to the courthouse this year. Theo had just missed his last dart throw when the tower shadow finally covered the table, and the employees started boxing up their plants.

The next table set to be shadow-covered was the tarot table, where Tasha was waiting in line. Bailey had been watching her all afternoon, trying to be wherever she wasn’t, like they were opposite ends of a magnet, repelling each other. Once, she’d seen her at a table where a local yarn store was selling handmade scarves. Later, she saw her wearing the green scarf with black bats she’d bought, while getting chicken-on-a-stick at a food truck. She was sometimes with Gary, but always with another woman Bailey recognized as Olivia Grace Monty. Bailey’s most prominent memory of her was when Vanna, one of the Feathers, scratched Wannabe into Olivia Grace’s car door their senior year, for daring to wear a feather charm like them. But it was clear by the way everyone greeted them that they were now at the top of the social hierarchy.

“Who are they? The people you’ve been watching all day?” Theo asked, taking the cup of apple cider she’d been holding for him while he’d thrown the darts.

“Just old classmates. The new queens of Hen Town, it seems.”

“Well, heads up,” he said, looking over her shoulder. “The queens are on the move.”

The shadow was creeping toward her on the grass, and Tasha kept moving her feet back every time it neared her shoes, as if it were tidewater. She didn’t want the fortune teller tagged out before it was her turn. She knew she was grasping at straws, asking the supernatural for guidance in the current chaos of her life, but she needed something to tell her everything was going to be okay.

Olivia Grace was chatting with tourists in line behind them while they waited. Tasha loved Olivia Grace’s ability to talk to anyone. She loved the book club she’d started at the country club. She loved their texts, and their wine on Wednesdays. And with Tasha’s mother now in a care home, she thought there would be more time to spend with Olivia Grace, more headspace for the life she’d always wanted.

Then she took a pregnancy test this morning.

She’d suspected for weeks because of that persistent crayon scent following her, and now she knew for sure. This hadn’t been a part of her plan. She’d had a horrible example of motherhood. There had never been a time in her childhood when her mother had seemed balanced. Had she been so before motherhood? Or did having a child unbalance her? And was it going to happen to Tasha, too? The thought of getting it wrong was made all the worse by Bailey returning and bringing with her those memories from eight years ago. What kind of mother does what Tasha’s mother did that night?

“Tasha?”

Tasha turned to Olivia Grace. She was wearing navy slacks and a wool blazer in a sea of jeans and L.L.Bean jackets, as if her whole personality were a suit. She wanted to be seen as accomplished and respectable at all times, because high school was always the reflection she saw in the mirror. It was big progress that she still had on the purple scarf with orange pumpkins that Tasha bought for her earlier.

“I asked if you’ve seen Bailey Wester yet.” Olivia Grace nudged her chin toward Bailey, who was talking to a handsome, studious-looking man with round glasses. He was in a T-shirt, and she was wearing a light blue jean jacket two times too big for her.

“Oh,” Tasha said. “Yes. I saw her briefly a few days ago when she was walking to town.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Olivia Grace asked.

“I didn’t think it was important. And it’s not really a surprise, is it, with her grandmother in decline?”

Olivia Grace suddenly left the tarot line.

“Where are you going?” Tasha called to her.

“I might not get another opportunity to do this.”

“Olivia Grace, don’t. It’s not going to make you feel any better.”

But she kept walking. Tasha cursed under her breath and went after her.

“Bailey Wester,” Olivia Grace said as she swaggered over.

Bailey turned from talking to the man. She tensed when she saw them, but smiled anyway.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.” Olivia Grace made a show of looking her up and down. Bailey’s short hair, no longer blue, glowed bright blond like torchlight. “You look so different. What happened to you?”

“Hi, Olivia Grace. It’s nice to see you.”

“Is it? Because when we were in high school, the only time you and your friends were glad to see me was when you were hungry for some Mean Girl action.”

Bailey winced, quick and sharp, as if she’d stepped on a tack. “I had the power to stop it, and I didn’t. I’ll always regret that,” she said. “You deserved better.”

Olivia Grace’s jaw worked a little. “You’re nowhere on social media. Tell me everything so I can share.”

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell. My life is very boring.”

“I find that hard to believe. No husband? Children?”

Bailey shook her head.